


The Reunion

by softboystanley



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: 14 pages of pure fluff, AND EVERYONE SURVIVES WE AINT DYING HERE, I swear, Mike is a disaster, Multi, alright everyones a gay disaster, except everyone whos name starts with a b, i havent watched it2 yet so if any of u come in MY comments section and spoil, i wrote this to offer the folk whove been wounded by it2, imagine if it2 never happened and everyone was happy, instead of it, stan is trying his best, they return to derry for a reunion, this is like therapy for me, this is my most crackhead fic ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 12:35:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20546255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softboystanley/pseuds/softboystanley
Summary: [it's a fix it fic where pennywise never happened and everyone's happy and not traumitized]Richie stood outside of the restaurant and breathed in. He looked up at the neon sign. Jade of the Orient. Anticipation shaking through his bones, he pulled open the door and walked inside.





	The Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> im living in a bubble where it2 doesnt exist and i dont have to live through the pain

Richie stood outside of the restaurant and breathed in. He looked up at the neon sign.  _ Jade of the Orient _ . Anticipation shaking through his bones, he pulled open the door and walked inside.

“Hello, welcome to Jade of the Orient. Can I help you?” The hostess asked. 

“Yeah, I believe I have a reservation. The name should be Hanlon.” 

The hostess smiled. “Yes, the rest of your party has already arrived. If you’ll follow me.” Richie followed her down a small hallway that lead him away from the main seating area. It opened up into a private dining area with seating for seven.  _ The Lucky Seven _ . 

Every seat was filled, except for two. Richie took a seat looking at the losers around the table. Each one had a somber look painted on their face. 

“What? I’m five minutes late and you’re all sad?” Richie asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable. 

“Rich, we have some bad news.” Mike said, his voice low and sad. “Stan has died.” 

Richie’s face fell. He almost believed them, too.  _ Almost _ . A small smile tugged at the side of Eddie’s face that alerted Richie to their scheme. He decided to have some fun. He was a comedian after all. 

“I know.” Richie adopted a gruff, serious voice. “I killed him. I hoped you wouldn’t find out but somehow you did. I guess I’ll have to kill you, too.” 

The entire table erupted into laughter. It was a good sound. Something Richie missed. 

“Where is ol’ Staniel? I’ve missed my favorite bird watcher.” Richie said. From one side of the table, the table cloth moved and Stan came out from under the table.

“‘Sup dickwad.” Stan sat in a chair next to Mike. 

“I would have believed you guys if Eds hadn’t sold you out. He smiled.” 

“I did not! And that’s not my name!”

“You got so cute, Spaghetti.” Richie said reaching his hand over the table and pinching Eddie’s cheek. 

“It’s good to see you, Richie.” Ben said, trying to distract Richie from Eddie, but it didn’t work. 

“He’s a lost cause.” Bev replied. “He lost in that spaghetti sauce.” 

“Hey, guys!” Bill said, calling everyone’s attention. “What we’re here for is no laughing matter. It’s a tragic event.” 

“It’s a reunion.” Mike pointed out. 

“With all the people we hate.” 

“So? We’re all stacked now.” Richie replied. “Everyone go ‘round the table and flex about how rich you are. Your boy Richard Tozier is a comedian.” 

Stan noticed Mike started fidgeting with his napkin when Richie said this. 

“Fashion Designer.” Bev said. 

“Architect. I got an award before coming down here, too.” 

“Damn, Haystack.” Eddie nodded. “Pediatrician. Up in Boston.” 

“Horror writer. I’ve published six books now. I also married an actress.” 

“And we’ve all read them.” Bev replied. “Right guys?” 

Around the table, a chorus of agreements was heard. Bill blushed. 

“Hate to be the only one with a title,” Stan began, clearly loving being the only one with a title. “But I was named the most successful young accountant in all of Atlanta.” 

“Damn Stanny boy. And who said that? The local drunk?” Richie said before howling with laughter. 

“Ha ha very funny Rich. But it was a magazine. In fact, I even brought it to flex on the school.” 

“There’s the Stan we all remember.” Bev joked. 

“How ‘bout you Mike?” Bill asked. 

“Uh… I’ve been here.” Mike said, blush rising into his face. “I’m the librarian.” 

“Oh, Mikey that’s swell!” Richie said, bumping Mike’s shoulder. 

“Not much of a flex.” Mike sighed. 

“So? Reunions are a time for lying. Just say you married.” 

“Everyone knows I didn’t. I see them everyday.” 

“Say you married one of us and have been keeping it a secret.” Eddie said. 

“Yeah!” Richie exclaimed. “Say you married Mr. Youngest Accountant in Atlanta.” 

“Excuse me. It’s Mr.  _ Most Successful  _ Young Accountant in Atlanta.” 

“Whatever.” Richie rolled his eyes.

Their waiter brought over two bowls of bread. When she left the room, the losers scrambled to get as much bread as possible. 

“Richie!” Eddie whined. “That’s my piece.” 

“Snooze you lose, Spaghettio.” 

“Who’s got eyes on the butter?” Mike asked.

“Over here.” Ben called, passing it to Mike. It’s path was delayed however, by Bill sticking his knife in and grabbing  _ way _ too much butter. 

“What would you think of that?” Stan asked Mike, trying not to be too obvious of his true feelings. 

“Think of what?” 

“‘Marrying’ me.” Stan did air quotes. “What’s a reunion if you don’t lie a bit?” 

Mike smiled. “I’m down. You aren’t like actually married though, right?” 

“God no. Haven’t met anyone nice yet.” 

Richie, who was sitting next to Mike, overheard this exchange, and told Bev. 

“Mike’s marrying Stan.” Richie whispered. “Ten bucks says by the time reunion’s over, they’ve kissed.” 

“Twenty says they kiss before we leave the restaurant.” Bev returned. She shifted in her seat and leaned over to Ben. 

“Are we still betting on Reddie?”

“Reddie?” 

“Richie and Eddie.” 

“Oh, hell yeah. Easiest money I’ll ever make.” 

“Also, how long till we tell them about us.” 

“Wanna do it right now?” 

“Su-” 

“Excuse me everyone.” Ben stood up, clinking his knife to his glass. “I have an announcement. Me and Bev are dating. We’ve been for a while, actually.” 

“Three months.” 

“We’re thinking about moving into together.” 

Everyone at the table applauded. 

“I have an announcement, too.” Richie stood, motioning for Ben to take a seat. 

“Eddie. I have something very important to tell you.” 

Eddie started sweating. This was it. Richie was gonna tell Eddie he loved him and they were gonna go off together and live an amazing life- 

“I fucked your mom.” 

“BOO! GET HIM OFF THE STAGE!” Stan said, playfully throwing bread at Richie. 

“Guys! Shh!” Bill shushed them. “You’re being a public disturbance. 

“You’re a public disturbance.” Stan retorted, thinking his comeback was the shit. His comeback was in fact not the shit. 

Eddie sighed, not only disappointed in Richie’s terrible joke but Eddie really thought Richie would like  _ him _ . Richie was off in LA and Vegas doing comedy shows and interviews while Eddie stayed in crowded old Boston listening to Sweet Caroline every night during a baseball game cause he thought it’d be fun to live next to Fenway Park. 

“You alright there, Eds?” Richie asked. “You zoned out.” 

“Yeah, just thinking about how many bad life decisions led to you being my friend.” 

“Yowza, Eds!” 

“Please don’t say yowza.” 

“YOWZA!” 

“Eat more bread maybe then you’ll shut up.” 

“So what do we tell people?” Mike asked Stan, trying his best to act like he was  _ totally  _ cool with fake marrying his long time crush for clout at a high school reunion. 

“Tell ‘em we’ve been in love since high school but when I moved away for college we started a long distance relationship and we got married two years ago but I had to stay in Atlanta because of my accounting job and that’s why you don’t have a ring. It’s foolproof.” 

“Seems like you’ve been planning this for awhile.” Mike raised an eyebrow. 

Stan started to sweat. “What? No! That’s-that’s crazy town. I wouldn’t- Why would I-” 

Mike smiled. “I’m fucking you. I MEAN FUCKING WITH YOU!” 

Richie overheard and laughed so hard he almost choked on his bread. 

Stan couldn’t move. Mike looked like his soul had gone to heaven and he had passed through the seven stages of grief. The two of them continued to eat bread in silence. 

“So, Bill. Tell me about your wife.” Bev asked, not wanting to discuss the ‘I’m fucking you’ incident. 

“Her name’s Audra. She really wanted to come meet you guys but she’s swamped with work. She’s a model and an actress.” 

“Well, if she ever wants to represent Marsh Fashion, gimme a call.” 

“Will do.” 

“Do you guys remember that game we would play?” Eddie asked. “Where we had to defeat that monster, what was his name?” 

“Pennywise! After the clown at the fair who made fun of Stan’s hair!” Bill called out. 

“Dude, remember you made us do that blood oath and legit cut our hands and we got scars?” Bev pointed to her hand where she had a line shaped scar. The rest of the losers all held up their hands, each displaying their own scar. 

“Yeah, thank god that was all just pretend.” Stan said. 

“Totally.” They all nodded. 

“Wouldn’t it be whack if it was real and we all just repressed the memories into us playing pretend and we had to be called back to Derry to defeat it once again?” Richie asked. 

“Eat more bread and shut up.” Eddie said. 

Their waiter came back and they all ordered their dinners. Stan and Mike turned away from each other, both mortified from earlier. 

“So, Bill. Tell me, in your second book is the main character based on a certain someone, perhaps a curly haired guy from your youth who liked to bird watch?” Stan asked, sliding over towards Bill.

“Maybe.” Bill responded, grinning. 

“OH FUCK YEAH! Jenn from HR owes me twenty bucks!” 

“What?” 

“I told her I knew you and she asked if you based a character on me and I said yes. We bet on it.”

“I'm ...flattered?” 

“I’m not using you for clout, I swear it’s just she’s a bitch.” 

“Maybe this can be a give and take relationship. I’ll go up to my accountant and be like ‘guess who I know? The most successful young accountant in Atlanta’.” 

“I  _ am  _ in a magazine.” Stan responded. 

“So, Richie. How bad do you think it was when I accidentally told Stan I was fucking him.” Mike whispered to Richie. 

“On a scale from one to ten? I would have to say big yikes.” 

“How many people heard it?” 

“The entire table.” 

Mike face planted into his plate. 

“You should go kiss him in the bathroom.” Richie said, nodding his head like he had any kind of experience. 

“NO! Shh! He could hear you!” 

Richie looked over at Stan, who was more preoccupied with the wontons that had just been put in front of him more than anything else. Bev, however, was paying attention and heard what Richie said. She scowled and elbowed him the stomach. 

“No skewing the bet.” She whispered. 

“Mike, any good Derry tea you could fill us in on?” Ben asked, silencing all other conversations around the table. 

“Greta got married. Three times. She’s now married to Drew Rexler from tenth grade lit class.” 

“Three times!?” Eddie’s eyes were wide. 

“We can’t all have rock solid marriages like Bill.” Bev said, gesturing to Bill, who flashed a smile. 

“Yeah, Eds. Why no hunny?” Richie asked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“That’s not name. And I just never met anyone.” 

“Really? No hot nurses?” Richie pushed. 

“Well, there was this guy in the ER but he moved.” Eddie shrugged. Everyone around the table gasped except for Stan. 

“Why are y’all surprised? Was this new information?” He asked, looking around the table. 

“Fuck, we’re gonna be late.” Ben said, looking down at his watch. “Everyone, let’s get going. Could we get the check?!” 

The losers wrapped up what food they could and walked outside, cool evening breeze hitting their faces. 

“Stan, wanna ride with me?” Mike asked. “We should work on some details.” 

“Yeah sure, I rode with Eddie, anyways.” 

Stan and Mike climbed into Mike’s jeep. 

“So, do we call each other names?” Mike started his car. “Good lord, Richie drives a corvette.” 

“It’s rented. You can tell by the plates. How about babe?” 

“Basic, do we have anything else?” 

“Oh, how about Mikey?” 

“Mmm, now we’re getting creative. What if I call you…” 

“Yeah Stanley’s hard.” 

“How about sweets?” 

“Sounds good,  _ Mikey _ .” Stan fluttered his eyelashes and Mike almost crashed the car. 

“Wait, is Bowers gonna be there?” 

“No, no. I didn’t tell you guys at the table but Bowers killed someone. He’s in prison.” 

“JESUS!” 

“Yeah, it was the talk of the town. The rest of Bowers’s gang moved except for Belch, who owns the town hardware store. He’s pretty chill now, takes out books on dogs.” 

“Seriously? I never would have guessed.” 

Mike pulled into the school parking lot. 

“Well, here we go. You ready Mr. Hanlon?” Mike asked. 

“Ready when you are, Mr. Uris.” 

This exchange gave the two of them gay panic. 

Richie pulled up next to them in his corvette, blaring rap music. 

“Sup fuckers.”

“That’s my  _ husband _ .” Mike joked and Stan almost had a heart attack. This night was gonna be rough. 

The losers reconvened right outside the doors, taking in all the memories. 

“Alright game plan. Everyone stick together and flex as much as possible. Stan you have your magazine?” Richie asked. 

“Check.” Stan held up a magazine called ‘Accountants Monthly’ with a big photo of him posing on it. 

“Bill, you got photos of your model wife?” 

Bill showed the group a picture of his wife. 

“Eddie do you have ...?” 

“I don’t have anything. Sorry guys.” 

“Richie, you won that award, right? Most daily listeners?” Ben asked. 

“Yeah, it’s in my bathroom.” 

“Red carpet photos.” Bev said. “I’ve got some.” 

“Mike, you have your trophy husband?” 

Mike nodded and linked arms with Stan. 

“Alright, everyone. Let’s do this.” Richie narrowed his eyes with gleaming intensity. 

Ben led the group through the double doors into the gym, which was decorated with an 80’s theme. 

“Name tags.” Bev walked over to a table with tons of name tags. 

“Where’s most successful young accountant in Atlanta?” Stan asked, looking through the name tags.

“Here’s yours, sweets.” Mike handed Stan his name tag, trying his best to work up the courage to use the nickname. 

“Thanks, Mikey.” 

“Wait, who’s last name we going with? Would you rather Stanley Hanlon or Mike Uris?” Mike whispered.

“Mike Uris. If that’s okay.” 

“Not a problem. Can I get a pen!” Mike wandered off to find some pens.

“Oh, shit!” Stan cursed, ducking behind Bill. 

“What?” 

“That guy over there in the suit with the baby blue tie. Yeah, I kinda might have you know made out with him in the supply closet.” 

“Stan!” 

“I’m sorry! It was junior year!”

“Are you gonna tell Mike?” 

“Mike? Why would Mike care?” 

“Jesus, Stan. You really did get stupider.” 

“Rude.” 

“Mike  _ likes _ you, Stanley. And you like him.” 

“Wh-what. No, that’s not..why would I - no!” 

“You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met. Just admit it.” 

“Fine. What do I do.”

“Kiss him. Marry him for real.” Bill took a drink of the fruit punch.

“I can kiss him. Yeah, I’m Stanley Uris. I can kiss him.” 

“Kiss who?” Mike walked back over, his name tag now reading Mike Uris. 

“Uh, the band. You know Kiss. Yeah, I really like them.” 

“Oh maybe you could ask the DJ to-” 

“You wanna go to the library?” Stan asked suddenly. 

“I mean sure.” Bill watched as Stan grabbed Mike’s hand and pulled him over to the door. 

Richie was over near the fruit punch bowl, flask in hand. Just as he was about to pour he heard someone clear their throat behind him. He turned around and saw Eddie, tapping his foot with an eyebrow raised. 

“Spiking the punch? New low, Tozier. At least share.” 

“Wanna go hit up our spot?” Richie asked, throwing a thumb over his shoulder pointing to where the football field was. 

“Hell yeah. What about the rest of the losers?” 

Richie and Eddie looked out at the gym and saw Ben and Bev sitting at a table drinking and talking while Bill was engaging in a very intense dance battle with Greta Bowie. Stan and Mike were nowhere to be seen. 

“Nah. Just you and me, spaghettio. Like old times.” Richie grabbed Eddie’s hand and led him through a door outside where they ran over to the bleachers. 

“What’s in the flask?” 

“I actually don’t know.” Richie sniffed it. “We probably shouldn’t drink it. It smells like an alleyway.”

“Damn, my only chance at alcohol, gone.” Eddie looked off into the distance. 

“Hey, don’t frown, clown. We can still hang out. We didn’t really catch up at dinner.” 

“Yeah, you were too busy making your mom jokes.” Eddie huffed. 

“You sound upset.” 

“I was upset, Rich. I really thought..you know what nevermind.” 

“Thought what?” 

  
  


“That you,” Eddie was sweating now.  _ Fuck! Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut? _ “Were gonna say you, god this is so stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid if it’s how you feel.” 

“I thought you were gonna tell me you loved me.” 

“I do love you, Eddio.” 

“Not in the way you’d love Bill or Bev. Like  _ love _ love.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, you don’t know how I feel.” Richie said, looking forward away from Eddie. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“This.” Richie said before leaning over and kissing Eddie. 

Eddie pulled back and smiled at Richie. “Hey Rich, guess what?” 

“What?” 

“I...fucked your mom.” Eddie said triumphantly. 

“Oh, how the tables have turned.” Richie nodded, laughing. 

They stayed under the bleachers, talking and laughing. And occasionally making out. 

“The library’s over here.” Stan pulled Mike down the hallway before turning into a dark room lined with bookshelves. 

“Holy shit. This place hasn’t changed.”

“There’s something I wanna find.” 

“Do you want the light on?” 

“No I know exactly where it is.” Stan went over to the third bookshelf on the right side of the room. He crouched down searching the rows for a book, his fingers dancing over the spine of each book. 

“A-ha!” He pulled a book out and showed Mike the cover.  _ The Magnificent Bird of North America.  _

“What is this?” 

“My favorite book. I took it out every week. I wrote in it too.” Stan said proudly handing Mike the book to skim through.

Mike opened to a book marked page titled ‘Bohemian Waxwing’. Mike read through the first paragraph but something in the margin stuck out to him. Next to the sentence ‘The Bohemian Waxwing is considered one of the most beautiful things in North America.’ there was something written in pencil. 

_ Clearly these ‘scientist _ s _ ’ haven’t seen Mike Hanlon.  _

“Did you write this?” Mike asked, showing Stan the annotation. His face went a deep shade of red as he stuttered out a response. 

“I-uh-well, I was into you. I  _ am _ into you.” 

Now it was Mike’s turn to blush. 

“I get it if you’re not into me. It’s alright.” 

“Oh Stanley. I am into you.” 

“Would this be a bad time to quote Ariana Grande?” 

“Yes.” Mike inched closer to Stan.

“So…” 

“So.” 

Their faces were so close together Mike swore he could count Stan’s freckles. Mike closed the distance by connecting his lips to Stan. 

“Good thing I came to this reunion, huh. And to think I was almost gonna stay home.” Stan said. 

“ _ Almost _ .” 

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is always appreciated! 
> 
> follow me on tumblr @softboy-stanley


End file.
